


She's Not There

by DaniofLocksley



Series: Praimfaya [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: After Praimfaya, Angst, Dealing with Clarke's death, F/M, Guilt, One Shot, song fic sort of, things he should have said
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-12-31 16:01:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12135999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaniofLocksley/pseuds/DaniofLocksley
Summary: She told him to use his head as well as his heart, how could he do that now?





	She's Not There

**Author's Note:**

> I know there are several of these floating around but this song fit too perfectly to the situation. The song is She's Not There by The Zombies. This is my first go at the 100 though it isn't my first fanfiction by any means. This is me testing the waters for a large fic I have planned for Bellarke. Any feedback is greatly appreciated and if anyone would like to help beta my possible future fic message me and I'll tell you some of the rough details! Thank you for reading!

Looking out the window at the now irradiated orange earth reminded him of all the times he stared out at it wishing he could get his sister off of this space station. Now she was down there below the ground and safe, but she couldn’t escape just like when she had been on the Ark. Octavia was still the little girl stuck under the floor but at least now she wasn’t alone. 

Bellamy felt alone. He was so far away from his purpose, his sister, and from her. That line of thought hurt too much to be explored further. He hadn’t said her name in the months since they had arrived and no one mentioned her around him. Living for the sake of living had never been something he had had to do so he set up goals for himself, stay alive so he can help the others, stay alive so he can get back to Octavia. Don’t think about the woman who had burned up on the ground so they could be here. Who had meant so much, more than he had ever told her. 

The common area behind him was lively, it was the end of the day and they were all done with their respective jobs to keep the hunk of metal from falling out of the sky. The first months had been hard with little sleep for anyone, but now they had time. Now they could rest. Bellamy hated resting. He had spent so long waiting for the next problem to pop up on Earth and it was a hard habit to shake. It was for the best, the others may have relaxed but if shit hit the fan, again, he would be ready and they would survive.

Survival was all he let himself think about. He owed it to her to ensure they all survived. Octavia could be waiting for him and he intended to be down there the minute he was able. He would not waste the chance she had sacrificed to give him, to give them. The others had left him to his thoughts at first, they were hurt by all they had lost as well. Murphy though never could let things lie. 

“Blake stop brooding and join us, it won’t become inhabitable again just because you stare at it”, Murphy called from where the others were gathered around Monty. 

They were on the brink of getting the music from the Ark’s mainframe to broadcast again. It would make it easier, having something to listen to, something to help them unwind. Raven punched Murphy to shut him up, Bellamy wouldn’t be joining them tonight they knew. He might not ever join them. How could he relax with the tight ball of anxiety he held in his chest? That anxiety was the only thing keeping him together and if he let it go, he would have to face it.

A cry sounded from behind him and he immediately whipped away from the window to assess what the damage was. Nothing was wrong though. Monty had done it he had retrieved the music from the databases and it was now starting to play through the speakers across the Ark. With a nod at Echo who had sensed his distress he turned back to the window. Back to the orange ball of death below that had killed so many he cared about. It had killed her. He had killed her. She was dead. She was dead. She was dead. She was- no he couldn’t go there. He had to keep it together. The thought never left his mind, it was on repeat constantly but he had pushed it to the back of his mind.

_Well no one told me about her_  
_The way she lied_  
_Well no one told me about her_  
_How many people cried_

Damn Monty for his choice in music. Now was not the time to think about this, he didn’t want to, but he couldn’t stop the assault of memories that crashed down on him. How long did he spend angry with her, how much time did he waste? Furious that she withheld the fact that Octavia was in Tondc from him. He had hated her when they first landed. She was privileged and self righteous with the same drive to lead he had within himself. 

_But it's too late to say you're sorry_  
_How would I know why should I care?_  
_Please don't bother trying to find her_  
_She's not there_  


When she left Mount Weather they had lost months together. The blood on their hands, she took it on herself so the others didn't have to and she couldn't forgive herself for the death that followed in Skaikru's wake. Every day she was gone he thought of what he could have said to make her stay. She could have been captured by Azgeda who were less forgiving than Roan and truly disappeared. They should have searched for her sooner, more thoroughly. He should have made her stay. He should have told her.

_Well let me tell you 'bout the way she looked_  
_The way she'd act and the color of her hair_  
_Her voice was soft and cool_  
_Her eyes were clear and bright_  
_But she's not there_

__

Gold hair pulled back in a ponytail falling out in places. The dimple in her chin. Her face covered in a sheen of sweat from the radiation sickness. Beautiful. Eyes that saw everything, tired, but still the brightest shade of blue he had ever seen. The last time he saw her she had showed no fear, she rarely did. They had such a limited amount of time before the Earth was gone and them with it if they weren’t in that rocket. He should have told her.

_Well no one told me about her_  
_What could I do?_  
_Well no one told me about her_  
_Though they all knew_  


Octavia had known it before he did. Everyone had known it before he did, it wasn’t hard to see. Hating her was difficult when she was trying so hard to make Earth a place worth living and make Skaikru the people she knew they could be. Part of him must have always known from the moment he stepped onto the dropship and saw her. The time had never been right to talk about what she meant to him, how much he cared. Who could avoid it after spending time with her? She was mercy, she was calm, she was everything. He should have told her.

_But it's too late to say you're sorry_  
_How would I know, why should I care?_  
_Please don't bother trying to find her_  
_She's not there_  


She was dead. She was dead. She was dead. Bellamy’s chest hurt in a new way, anxiety replaced with pain. It was a pain he hadn’t felt since his mother had been floated, since he thought Octavia had been killed in combat. He didn’t want to feel it, didn’t want it to be real. The thought of her destroyed by radiation, unrecognizable, motionless for the first time since he had met her is what broke him. She was dead. She was dead. She was dead. He should have told her.

_Well let me tell you 'bout the way she looked_  
_The way she'd act and the color of her hair_  
_Her voice was soft and cool_  
_Her eyes were clear and bright_  
_But she's not there_  


“I’m sorry Clarke”, he whispered to the dead Earth. The last time he saw her she had warned him. Mentioning her mother’s vision didn’t shake her, she didn’t care what happened to her, but she cared about Bellamy. That knowing smile firmly in place that never failed to make his heart beat faster. The last thing she told him was to use his head as well as his heart. Who other than Octavia knew him the way she did? They had witnessed the darkest parts of one another's character but still saw the light. Their last embrace had been quick but like every time he touched her anything seemed possible. She could do this and they would see each other again. The smell of her still lingered even now, the phantom scent of a dead girl. She was dead. She was dead. She was dead. She had been everything to him and she was dead. How could he use his head and his heart when his heart was dead and his brain was scrambling to make sense of the loss? He had failed her. The last time he saw her ill, in a black radiation suit, exhausted from a life of one horrible thing after another, all he could think was _I love you._ Now she was gone. He should have told her.


End file.
